Silver and Red (part one)

I knew my parents loved me. Infact they told me all the time. The problem was I didn't love myself. I knew God loved me, but I didn't believe that when members at my church said it. At times I questioned my faith. I would pretend that I was fine, but that was far beyond the truth. I hid behind a fake smile, and when I laid down at night...I would'nt sleep, instead I cried. Deep down inside I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't put a finger on it. I had mood swings, and at times they were pretty bad. At one minute I felt happy and care free, the next minute I was crying, and the next thing you knew I felt like blowing up the world. Let's rewind, so I can start from the begaining.

My family and I moved to St.Louis from Harlem, NY when I was just thirteen. My mom, dad, older sister, twin sister and I. I had it all in New York. I had a cute Puerto Rican boyfriend, that lived with his mother. We lived in the same building that my father owned but we lived on diffrent floors. It was nice apartment, that I still have fond memories of. I had my 12th birthday party on the roof of that seven story apartment. If you didn't feel like taking the stairs, there was an elevator to use. I knew almost everybody that lived there as well. I had a friend that was two years younger than me that lived on the third floor. She always invited me to go places with her and her family: church, movies, central park, ect. Then sometimes I would just go down there to hang out and play video games. She had a cute older brother that was fourteen and liked me. Sometimes we would race each other to the corner and back on our bikes. Then Octavia and I would walk to the corner store and buy ice cream sandwiches, sodas and chips. Anyway I was thirteen, happy, and carefree. Then one summer a month after my thirteenth birthday. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a warm (not quite hot) day in mid June. I walked to YMCA and swam with some friends, despite the fact that our apartment had a swimming pool. When I came back still wet under my clothes, my mother told me there was a suprise in store for us. We were moving !!!! I was shocked, exicted, sad, angry, and happy all at once. I couldn't believe my ears. Later that night after we got home from eating at a barbeque joint, we sat down and had a family meeting about the big move. Dad said the move will ocure in July. I remember that night I sat in my room and cried. The next morning I told dad that I didn't want to move. Dad always knew what to do to make me feel better. Over a bowl of cereal and juice, he told me that today just you and I will spend some time to take my mind off of it. We spent the whole day together. We went to see two movies. We rode the subway to Centrall park and tossed a frisby back and forth. Dad and I sat near the lake and just talked about everythind accept the moving. After that we stoppped at a really good Chinese buffet. Dad knew I couldn't turn down Chinese food. We spent all day together, and we got home close to midnight that night tired and hot. Soon July came. Along with it came hotter temperatures and lots of heavy rain. Dad had to sell the apartment, but luckly enough he sold it to my uncle who still ownes it today. We were all busy. Packing things, putting things in storage. I spent as many times with my friends as I could. Lisa and I didn't finish our last simester in summer school. My sisters were just as sad I as I was about the move. By the night of July the tenth, we out of the there. We were on a plane headed towards St.Louis. Drying my tears as I stepped onto that plane with a flight number I cannot remember. Little did I know that's where my troubles would start.